"Tony Stark, come back to me!"
"Tony Stark, you killed my family, you're a murderer!"
"Tony Stark!"
"Tony Stark!"
…
"No!"
Tony jolted awake, drenched in sweat, the screams still echoing in his ears. His surroundings blurred as he blinked into the dim light of the room. The haunting cries lingered in his mind, though the room was now silent.
"You okay, Tony?" Yin Sen's voice cut through the fog, soft but concerned, as he sat up from the bed next to Tony's.
Tony rubbed his temples, forcing a weak smile. "I'm fine."
But the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him. Tony looked worn out, his sleepless nights taking a visible toll. His recent nightmares about the victims of his weapons had stripped him of peace. Yet now that he was awake, there was no sense in lying back down. The only thing left was to finish the steel suit.
Yin Sen, sensing Tony's unease, stayed up with him instead of going back to sleep. A few moments later, he handed Tony a cup of steaming hot chocolate.
"What's this?" Tony asked, surprised. He hadn't seen anything resembling a luxury like chocolate since he was captured. The meager food here was barely edible: tasteless dough, scarce fruit, and meat that only arrived once a month, if that. The thought of chocolate, or even a clean drink, felt foreign in this grim place. In the early days of his captivity, Tony had refused to eat. But after a few days, hunger won, and he devoured whatever they gave him.
"I traded some of my valuables for it. You've been running on empty lately," Yin Sen said with a gentle smile.
Tony hesitated, his throat tight with gratitude. Yin Sen had become an unlikely friend in this hellhole, sacrificing his comforts for Tony's well-being. Unable to find the right words, Tony simply nodded, making a silent vow to get them both out of this alive.
"Thanks," he muttered, downing the hot chocolate. The warmth coursed through his body, rejuvenating him more than it should have, psychologically lifting him from his exhaustion.
Fueled by Yin Sen's gesture and the symbolic power of the chocolate, Tony returned to his work. Every hammer strike against the metal of his suit felt like a step closer to freedom. His pulse quickened as the final pieces of the steel suit began to take shape.
But just as the last adjustments were being made, chaos erupted outside.
The sound of gunfire and explosions ripped through the air, shaking the walls around them. Terrorists outside were unleashing a full-on assault, bullets spraying and bombs detonating in quick succession. The sound of grenades exploding and machine guns roaring turned the area into a warzone.
"What's going on?" Tony asked, stunned. He wondered if the terrorists were turning on each other.
Before Tony could act, a rocket whooshed in from outside, its tail flame spinning in slow motion before his eyes. Time seemed to crawl as he saw the logo on the rocket: Stark Industries. His heart sank.
"Boom!!!"
The explosion tore through the room, obliterating the steel suit he'd poured his hope into. The blast sent Tony and Yin Sen flying across the room, crashing into the walls with brutal force. As Tony struggled to regain his senses, his eyes locked on Yin Sen, who lay motionless against the far wall.
A jagged piece of shrapnel had pierced Yin Sen's chest. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric a dark crimson.
"No! No, no, Yin Sen!" Tony screamed, crawling toward him.
Yin Sen's breathing was labored, his face pale, but he managed a weak smile. "Tony... Go…," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Before Tony could say another word, Yin Sen's head slumped to the side, and he fell silent. The smile remained on his face, forever etched into Tony's memory.
Tony was in shock, the grief numbing him to the chaos around him. He barely registered the terrorists who rushed into the room. They dragged him out, but Tony's mind was consumed by the image of Yin Sen's lifeless body. His savior, his friend, gone.
As they threw a hood over Tony's head, the world went dark, and all he knew was that he was being carried onto a helicopter.
Once Tony was out of sight, the animalized soldiers, who had feigned death during the attack, stood up and brushed themselves off. One of them, peppered with bullet holes, glared at his companion.
"Why'd you shoot me with a machine gun? I thought we were only supposed to use pistols!" he barked.
"You'll heal. Just don't get shot in the head next time," another soldier replied nonchalantly.
The wounded soldier muttered a curse. "Next time, I'm stuffing a grenade inside you," he grumbled.
Tony didn't realize the helicopter hadn't flown far. Zod had orchestrated the entire event, transporting him to a second simulated prison, carefully designed to make Tony believe he had been captured by another group of terrorists.
When Tony Stark stepped off the helicopter, they removed his hood. He found himself in yet another desolate landscape of yellow sand and stone. But this time, it was clear that these terrorists were even more well-equipped. The surrounding area was littered with advanced munitions and weapons, all bearing the unmistakable mark of Stark Industries.
Tony's heart sank. His own creations, the very weapons he had designed to protect, were now in the hands of his enemies.
His conscience reeled as the realization hit him once again: his weapons were killing innocent people, fueling wars and terror. The guilt that had been gnawing at him since his captivity deepened.
"They know who you are. They want you to build another steel suit," came a voice.
Tony turned and saw a man who looked eerily similar to Yin Sen. The resemblance was uncanny, though the man's face was slightly different. This new figure was clearly meant to fill the void Yin Sen had left behind, acting as an interpreter for the terrorists.
Despite his grief and the rising rage within him, Tony Stark remained defiant.
"Tell them," Tony said through gritted teeth, his anger boiling over, "that it's not going to happen."